


Got a Photograph Dream (DOMINICK "SONNY" CARISI)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit RPF
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>requested by anonymous: Imagine being at a bar with Sonny (your boyfriend) and getting jealous when he and Amanda get close </p><p>word count: 2360</p><p>warnings: jealousy, assault (nothing too graphic), anger, yelling, arguments</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Got a Photograph Dream (DOMINICK "SONNY" CARISI)

The bar was packed with cops and detective and firefighters. It was a cop bar, but they were having a day for civil servants. Five dollars for a tray of shots, ten dollars for three beers. It was a steal, so of course you convinced your boyfriend to go out with his friends, and to take you with him.

It didn’t matter that you were just a desk drone at a paper company, or that you weren’t too familiar with his friends. You wanted to spend time with Sonny, time when he was relaxed and happy because after a long shift he was rarely relaxed and happy.

Not ten minutes after arriving you were beginning to regret your decision.

Of course the squad loved you. They loved Sonny, and he loved you, so of course they accepted you with open arms. It didn’t matter that Fin had already burned through a tray of shots or that Mike was working on getting his ten dollars worth from the beer he was nursing; they laughed at the jokes you told and congratulated Sonny on landing such a wonderful human. It didn’t matter that Amanda had been less than friendly toward you and more than friendly toward Sonny; Olivia’s warm demeanor and immediate hug was enough to distract you from the blonde’s icy exterior.

What didn’t distract you from it was the fact that Sonny wasn’t even picking up on it. He wasn’t asking her to calm down with the snide remarks, Fin was, and he wasn’t asking her to budge up in the booth to make room when you moved. Rafael did that. You sighed into your beer and wondered how the night was going to play out after the chip of anger was planted deep into your shoulder.

“I’ve always admired your work,” You said sometime later, leaning closer to Mike and Fin to speak over the roar of civil servants of Manhattan, “Sonny comes home so stressed out and then I hear about his cases on the news… It must be exhausting.” And the two detectives you were speaking to look exhausted, deep rings under their eyes.

Just over their shoulders you could see Sonny and Amanda at the bar getting another tray of shots. You could see her hand on his shoulder, sliding down his forearm to rest on his bare skin. You turned your eyes back to Fin, listening to him as he talked about how the rewards outweighed the nightmares. You finished off your third beer and nodded.

“I guess I can understand that. Though I’m just a desk jockey, so I don’t have much to be worried about.” The conversation died just as quickly as it started as Sonny and Amanda burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the whole table. You shifted uncomfortably, trying not to get jealous or angry. They were just friends- you knew that.

Right?

Right. Sonny would never. He loved you, cared for you, shared a bed and an apartment and clothing with you. You two had spoken about marriage on multiple occasions and he had grinned at you and kissed you and told you that it would be amazing to spend the rest of his life with you.

But still you had to look away as he leaned down to make another joke, giving Amanda the same smirk he usually reserved for you. It just so happened your eyes landed on a smirking Rafael, with his hands folded on the table next to you. Neither of you spoke but you warned him with his eyes. If he were to say something… Anything… You were sure it would spark the fight to end all fights between you and Sonny. If he even thought for a moment that you assumed he was cheating or worried about him cheating then he would get defensive and angry and you would fight back and end up at your friend’s house and it would be a mess.

Even as Sonny loped back toward the booth with a tray of shots in one hand and Amanda under his other arm, you were determined to keep your cool. You clenched your jaw and looked up at Sonny and wondered why you were feeling sick after three beers.

But then you realized it was because you smelt Amanda on Sonny’s skin as he leaned by you to deliver the shots. He handed one to you, once again completely ignoring you for Amanda. You downed it and snatched Fin’s to down that, too. Mike jokingly held his out, but you took it and drank it. His eyebrows rose but you shook your head and excused yourself to the bathroom.

You had to get away.

The bathroom was cool, making you shiver. You hadn’t realized but you had sweat running down your back, too many people in a small bar. It was too cold for you, making you aggravated so you splashed water on your face, dried it off, and made your way back to the bar. But you didn’t make it far.

To get back to your table meant passing the back alley exit, usually reserved for skeevy hookups or quick escapes from exes, but you were grabbed and pull out the door, losing your footing and crashing down the four concrete steps that it opened up to. Gasping for breath you scrambled to your feet, only to be punched in the face and slam back down.

“I suggest you stay down,” The voice was low, gravely, and you gasped for breath as your face and body ached against the cold concrete. But you had to get up, to get away, because you couldn’t become a statistic, couldn’t become a case that went across Sonny’s desk. So you got up and turned around, but all you saw was a leather jacket and a ski mask. The man backed you up against the wall, arms on either side of you, “I said stay down!” You cried out as his knee made harsh contact with your stomach and then his elbow came down on your back as you bent over. And you couldn’t even scream; the music pouring from the bar and the laughter and ruckus inside would mask any noise you would have made.

The man kicked you, once in the back, once in the face, before a shout came from the open end of the alley. The man above you cursed and took off the other way, easily jumping the chain link fence to get away. Hands rested on your shoulders, stood you up, and a voice was asking you questions. The pain made your hearing waiver, everything in you wishing you could curl up and cry but you couldn’t. You thanked the man, some faceless firefighter that was looking at you like you were about to break, and stumbled to the end of the alley. You were bleeding- was your nose broken?- and you were bruised and you were angry and jealous so you called a taxi and texted Sonny that you were going home. Lying about feeling sick.

But were you lying? You did feel sick. And scared. And you wanted Sonny to wrap his arms around you but you were mad at him and you wanted him to be the one protecting you in the alley but he wasn’t. He was inside with Amanda, laughing with Amanda, having a good time with Amanda while you were being hit, dehumanized.

Thankfully not becoming a case file.

And once you were home, after you had managed to unlock the front door through black spots in your vision, you turned off all of the lights, closed all the blinds. You made sure all of the alarms were off and the furnace wasn’t going to kick on because your head was pounding and you were sweating bullets. All you wanted to do was sleep. You wanted to sleep and pretend like you weren’t going to be bruised in the morning, like you back and your shoulders and your face weren’t going to ache.

Like you weren’t going to end up fighting with Sonny when he got back to the apartment you shared. You had hoped it was later rather than sooner, but you had only been wrapped in your comforter for less than two hours when the door opened and Sonny’s voice echoed through your apartment.

“I thought I told you to always lock this door!” He sounded irritated and you internally groaned. Sonny was a multifaceted drunk; happy and easygoing until he had a few past a few too many. Then he was angry and looking for a fight. You could usually get him to bed before anything happened but you weren’t in the mood; especially when he slammed the bedroom open and the sound echoed in your head, waves of pain rolling down your spine. You dug yourself deeper and tried to keep your trap shut. “I’m being serious. What if I would have been a killer, or a rapist?” But you still didn’t answer. “But I guess that doesn’t matter, either, since you just took off from the bar. Without even telling me.”

“I texted you from the cab, Sonny,” You deadpanned, still lying with your back to him. You assumed he was standing in the doorway, one hand on his hip, hair mussed like he usually did, “I figured you’d check your phone when I texted, but I guess not.” Sonny didn’t missed the clipped tone you used.

“Look, I don’t know who got your goat, but it wasn’t me.”

“You’re right,” You spoke before you thought, “Amanda did. Probably got your goat too.” The innuendo was lost on him.

“I’m not mad at Rollins and I’m not sure why you are. I’m not sure why you’re mad at all.” You scoffed and pulled the comforter tighter around you, “Oh, so that’s it? Just going to go to bed?”

“Yes. I would appreciate it if you would keep it down. I have a headache.” He scoffed.

“Rollins was right. You’re a lightweight.” And your fuse was nonexistent, already set off by Sonny barging into your room, yelling at you. You sat up, swinging your legs off the bed as you whipped around to face Sonny.

“You’re right, Sonny, I am a lightweight. So light I got tossed down the stairs. You know what, maybe I’m such a lightweight that I got punched in the face. Got kicked. Got thrown to the ground. Maybe Amanda,” You spat her name like it was acid, “Is right, too. What else does she say about me, huh? Tell you I’m not good for you? That she’s better? That would explain why you didn’t bother to call when you didn’t realize I had messaged you; why you just came home and hoped, if you even did that, that I was here.” Sonny was stunned as he looked at you. With a self satisfied, burning anger, you saw your face in a mirror behind him. A bruise, dark and horrid, was curling around your eyes socket and blood was dried under your nose and on your lips and chin. You looked like you had gotten the hell beaten out of you.

Sonny breathed your name and reached out for you, but you jerked back. “What happened?”  
  
“While you were taking shots with Amanda I got pulled into the alley.” He looked pained.

“Were you…?” Sonny didn’t finish his question, but you had began shaking his head before he could get the second word out.

“Not thanks to you. Some firefighter scared the fucker off. I’m glad you had such a fun time, though. I’m glad you busted in here screaming at the top of your lungs, like my head isn’t hurting enough. Aren’t you?” A rhetorical question, but he answered with the shake of his head.

“I didn’t know,” He whispered.

“That’s because you were so caught up on Amanda.”

“What is with your fixation on Rollins tonight?!” Sonny was back to yelling, throwing his hands in the air. You took a step back, a reflex, but Sonny’s face didn’t even soften. You broke then, letting the frustration and the fear and the anger roll down your face in tidal waves of tears.

“Because you’re so fixated on her!” You exploded, “You barely spoke to me tonight! You didn’t introduce me and I had no idea who the hell anyone was because they just shook my hand and tried to pretend like they remembered my name three seconds after I said it. Amanda was being the damn ice queen all night and you didn’t defend me, even when she basically called me fat when she said that there wasn’t room in the booth for me when there was more than enough. In fact, it was Rafael who asked her to move and called her out when there was room for another person beside me. You were so fixated on her that you didn’t even to bother noticing I was gone for longer than the average bar bathroom trip.” You shoved by him, fully intending to sleep on the couch, but as soon as you shoved by him, Sonny spoke.

“Oh, so you’re leaving the apartment because I wasn’t there to protect you when you got yourself attacked?” And you scoffed, actually scoffed as you changed your direction toward the door.

“Victim blaming,” You whistled lowly, “Real smooth for an SVU detective, Sonny. What’s next, gonna tell me I was asking for it because I went to the bathroom?” You turned to him, arms crossed, but he just gritted his teeth and locked his jaw. When he spoke, his voice was low and his accent was thick.

“If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back in the morning.” And that was the last straw. On top of Amanda, on top of your blood and your bruises, on top of the argument. All you could do was snarl. You didn’t care that Sonny was more than likely bluffing.

“I’ll be back in the morning for my stuff.” And you spun, opened the door, and slammed it without looking back at Sonny’s shocked face.


	2. On The Getaway Mile (DOMINICK "SONNY" CARISI)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requested by anonymous: Got a photograph dream’s part 2 should be the aftermath where sonny realizes that you were the one (after finding all your things gone after coming home from work) and how he was acting was wrong after he blamed you thanks to him being drunk. At work Barba, Fin, Olivia, and Dodds make comments about how Amanda was acting and that they really liked you and hoped to see you again or something in that nature before he decides he needs to apologize in a very fluffy way to win you back.
> 
> requested by anonymous: could u please write a part 2 to ur “got a photograph dream” piece!?
> 
> requested by anonymous: Hi bb! Do you think you could possibly do a sequel for the jealous reader x Carisi fic (got a photograph dream)?? I NEED a happy ending to this where he acts all sweet and apologizes finally <3 LOVE your writing, you’re so talented!
> 
> omg thank you all for requesting this and for your kind words!! -e
> 
> word count: 1247
> 
> warnings: none

You ended up going to Rafael’s house, as he was the closest and the one that had spoken up for you at the bar. You had his address purely because Sonny had his address and, well, what better time to put that to use?

Rafael, apparently, wasn’t expecting to see you at his door. He looked surprised when he opened the door, but then he saw your face and pulled you inside without another word. Rafael’s hand was soft on your bicep and you hiccuped as he sat you down at his kitchen table and disappeared into another room, only to come back with a first aid kit. You tried to protest, but Rafael barked at you in Spanish so you let him clean you up, applying a butterfly bandage over the bridge of your nose to hold a cut shut that you hadn’t seen before.

When he was done, hands still shaking, Rafael leaned back to look at you, “Did Carisi do this to you?” Your eyebrows shot up at his question and the serious tone in his voice.

“No,” You said, “I was grabbed at the bar. He was going to… This firefighter or somebody helped me. I took a cab home.” Rafael nodded, deciding whether or not he was going to believe you, “And then Sonny picked a fight with me.”

His words echoed in your head.

If you walk out the door, don’t bother coming back in the morning.

“So why did you come here?”

“I saw your address a couple of days ago on some document. I remembered it when I needed somewhere to go. I’m sorry, Rafael. I just needed to calm down, I can leave.” You stood but Rafael planted both hands firmly on your shoulders, pushing you back into the chair.

“No, no. You can stay for the night and give Carisi time to cool off. I’ll give you a ride back in the morning.” You wanted to tell Rafael that Sonny wasn’t going to take you back, let you back in, but Rafael was smiling down on you, being a friend, being nice to you. You nodded, tried to make yourself relax, and Rafael led you to the guest room. You thanked him and settled down in the bed, ready to try and get some sleep.

But sleep didn’t come, tears did, so you embraced them and licked your wounds before finally falling into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The next day Sonny arrived home with enough tension in his shoulders to shake the earth. He was waiting for you to get home, relaxed on the couch with a beer, when he stopped. Everything about him stopped. He stopped breathing, for Christ’s sake.

Usually there was a picture of the two of you directly across from where he sat on the couch. It was taken at his birthday, but Sonny scanned the wall. It wasn’t there. Sonny stood, beer tipping from his hands, as he tried to locate it.

But it was gone.

Sonny took off to the bedroom, sliding across the floor and into the bedframe in his haste. He gasped, bile threatening to rise in his mouth. Drawers were flung open, the bed was bare because all of that was your bedding, and most of all- the thing that hurt Sonny the most- was the fact that ever picture of you both in the entire apartment was piled on the empty mattress.

Sonny hadn’t thought you would have taken him seriously when he told you to not come back. He thought you would leave, go cool off, come back. But you didn’t- well you had. But you had left again, taken your stuff with you. Sonny was panicking- where could you have gone?

None of your friends had any room in their apartments- he looked at his watch. Surely someone would still be at the precinct, working over. He raced out the door and prayed that he would find someone to find you.

* * *

But you were in a hotel. You were in a hotel drinking the mini bar, watching some shitty movie with bland heteronormative white romance bullshit. You weren’t paying attention to what was on the screen, but the only thing you could focus on was Rafael on your phone, talking you through your woes.

“He’s frantic, mi amigo,” Rafael sighed, “He came running into the precinct while I was there. He practically accosted Dodds to find out where you are.”  
  
“Well,” You sighed, practically inhaling the rest of the small bottle of whiskey in your hands, “He can suck my bruised ass. He told me not to come back and I’m not coming back.” Rafael sighed and then clicked his teeth.

“Well, my apologies, then,” You sat up and tried not to fall off the bed when you became dizzily drunk, “I sent him your hotel room.” You cried out as you flipped off the bed, hissing incoherently into the phone as Rafael chuckled. Three knocks on the door signified that Sonny had found you, and the opening of the door signified the fact that you hadn’t shut it correctly when you arrived.

Sonny turned the corner and flushed with relief when he saw you. “Rafael, remind me to kill you when I see you next.” You hissed, ending the call before he could say anything. Turning to Sonny you snarled. “And you, get out.”

He stood and stared at you, looking lost and looking broken. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t want you to leave. I want to be with you, not Amanda. Dodds, he told me. Dodds told me how I was acting. How Rollins was acting. I’m sorry. I wish you hadn’t have taken me seriously because I wasn’t serious. I was mad that you were jealous, I was mad that you had left, and I was mad that I let you get attacked.”

“Right,” You snarked, “Because accusing me of getting myself attacked screams that you’re angry I got attacked.”

“I am!” Sonny stepped forward, looking angry at everything, and lost at the same time. When you flinched and stumbled back against the wall he nearly broke, undoing the fists he had thrown in the air, “I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re the best damn thing to happen to me and I’m going to ruin it. I don’t want to ruin it. I want you, always and forever. I want you to marry me.”

Sonny’s speech threw you for a drunken loop as you closed your eyes, sighing, trying to make sense of what he said. “I’m drunk,” You finally said, “Like, super drunk.”

“I know.”

“Do you still want to marry me even if I’m drunk?” You asked, opening your eyes, surprised to see Sonny with a red face and tears streaking down his cheeks. He nodded.

“Do you want to marry me even if I’m an asshole?” He asked, pulling a box from his pocket, “I got this after I realized you left. When I saw the pictures on our bed. Our whole life together, laid out, and I realized I fucked it up. I couldn’t let you go without trying to make you mine.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. “We’re going to have to work on this, Sonny. Talk. Communicate. But I want you. I want to marry you.”

“I know,” He breathed, grinning, “I know we’re going to have to work it out. But I’ll work anything out with you.”


End file.
